Eighty Percent Yield

I was closing in on ten days without a post so I decided to check in and get my fingers moving again; not to mention the flow of words. All is well. Independence Day in the middle of the week threw me out of my usual orbit, that’s all. With each day away it felt harder to surmount the amount I fell behind. As Woody Allen said, life is 80% showing up. So here I am.

I suppose this where the former Me would apologize and offer excuses/reasons for being away from this space for so long. Justifications for online absence feel unsavory to the present Me. I wasn’t ill. I wasn’t on vacation. I stepped away for a while when I got tired (doesn’t matter why) and I didn’t rush back. I don’t need to apologize for that. In fact, an ongoing part of my emotional wellness practice is to cease and desist reflexively apologizing for things in life for which I am not sorry.

This is good practice. I’m not sorry I was living my life without blogging for a few days. I didn’t really fall behind on anything because none of this is subject to deadlines. Nothing pressing should equal no pressure, shouldn’t it? I probably needed the break anyway. Breaks are also part of the practice.

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One aspect of my absence does feel relevant to my return, however. While I was away I survived yet another audit at work. The metaphor feels especially timely right now. I’ve been voluntarily auditing my lifestyle over the last four to six months to revise old personal policy and procedure. You can see the parallels each time I post a work release; letting go, purging, editing, eliminating, all to make space for methods that better serve my mission. Revisions have reached so far as to change even my name.

In this revisionist vein I did something brazen by the light of the full Buck Moon. Truthfully, I am not sure if I am sorry. The Farmer’s Almanac says we call it a Buck Moon because,  “July is normally the month when the new antlers of buck deer push out of their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur. It was also often called the Full Thunder Moon, for the reason that thunderstorms are most frequent during this time. “

I decided that if I am going to keep wearing the running flowers into running retirement I need to revise their purpose. By that I mean their purpose in my life as opposed to their purpose in general. There are thirteen flowers (I have all thirteen) and while I still jive with the sentiment that each flower represents, it is the little cards filled with prose which accompany each flower that feel dissonant. (When you buy a flower it comes with a companion card explaining the meaning of the flower.)

Each month I pick one color as a theme and during Morning Prayers on the first day of the month I review the meaning of the chosen flower. (I know, I know — there are only twelve months so one flower gets left over. This is the holiday flower all year long. But back to my point.) July is the Blue flower, also known as the Truth flower. After auditing my feelings about how the Truth flower I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the card into individual words and phrases and then reorganized them.

I’m a smidgen conflicted about sharing this because I know the author of these cards personally. This act of rebellion/vandalism/crafty wellness might be offensive to her. I can’t say she wouldn’t be justified in feeling offended that I destroyed her work. I can only say that I meant no harm or offense. I only mean to keep this part of my practice relevant for myself, which is ongoing work, and this is where I show my work.

Knowing her as I do, I wager I’ve got a 50/50 chance she might also consider this to be badass. In either case, I’m neither hiding my actions nor flaunting them. I’m simply de-scrambling the original message to become better aligned with how I want to support myself. In their original order, these are still her words and I honor them. In their new order, they apply better to my life and I honor that.

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Note the kitty fang marks on the words “who I am.” As if to say, “I am bitten.” For argument’s sake there is another way to rationalize this. As a consumer I can absolve myself by saying I paid for the card when I bought the flower, therefore I own the ink and paper rendering, and can make anything I want out of it, including a new paper craft. I can also destroy it if I so desire. It’s not that simple though.

The words on the card give the flower its appeal. The words help the consumer identify with the flower’s meaning and this is the hook that compels the consumer to purchase it. The flower without the words is just another flower hair clip — a product. The words on the card transform the product into a symbol. While I may not have destroyed the symbolism of this particular flower, I did change it. The specific words chosen by the originator are mean to convey a specific message. I did not necessarily have permission to change that message and then associate the message with the same product. Ergo I have conflicted feelings about my revision.

The originator may not care, but does that make it right? For that matter, would the originator’s umbrage make it wrong? Obviously I haven’t finished my audit.

For the ketchup Peaco Prompts, I won’t overburden you with all of them at once. I’ll dole them out to you a few at a time until we’re all satisfied.

July 3rd:

Write about being in the wrong place at the right time.


 

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July 4th:

A note which reads:  No heroin for sale at this house.


 

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July 5th:

Write about the day she stopped driving.


 

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It’s nice to be back.

— Mercy

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